It's been quite some time since I last blogged. I have been having some thoughts to get out of my head and heart and figured I would polish off the blog and release my expressions into the world. I also have to pack, and if there is a way for me to procrastinate packing, I will find it. This last year has been quite an experience. Last July I moved to Tacoma, Washington to join a L'Arche community and share life with its members. Shortly after arriving I received news my step father was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer and it had spread. Being very close to my family, I asked for a release from my commitment to be with my family. By the end of July I was back home in Lewisville. Just being gone a month one might think I didn't miss that much, but the truth is I missed my favorite week of the year, SEEK Camp! I had tried to schedule my departure otherwise, but it was inevitable I would miss camp once since I was committing to a year of service in L'Arche.
For those that don't know SEEK Camp is a camp for young adults with special needs. I first attended SEEK in 2001 and have enjoyed 8 camps since then. For us counselors at camp it is a very special time and we have formed deep and meaningful friendships amongst each other and with the campers as well. I hated that I would miss camp. I imagined missing birthday dinners and some holidays, but SEEK was one of the toughest events for me to realize I would miss. As I reflect on my experiences at camp I can see how I have matured over the years.
So, back to the procrastination, THIS is the day we leave for SEEK camp. The calendar year has turned. My family's first full year of grieving Mike, my step dad, is coming to a close. It's crazy to think how different my life is than when I left and even what I imagined it might be like when I returned home from Tacoma. That alone is worth a whole blog post in itself. As camp has approached, a child like excitement and anticipation has built up for me. I am looking forward to the activities we will do and the laughter that is sure to be had. But I think what I am most looking forward to is the opportunity to connect with counselors and campers alike. At camp, we tend to let our guards down. Truth be told, I think the campers begin this process and counselors follow suit, knowing that we will be loved and accepted. I think back to this past year, and how many times I have been wrapped and overwhelmed in grief, perhaps in the middle of a Friday night while waiting tables in a busy restaurant. I had to keep those feelings inside. I think back to how many times people asked me how I was doing and because I didn't want to seem overly emotionally, a simple "Good" was my answer. I think about how even within my own family I have struggled to have meaningful talks about Mike as the year has passed. I hope that everyone knows that most of the time I am honestly doing pretty well, but like everyone I have my moments of grief and struggle with loss.
One of the beautiful things about SEEK Camp is that the experiences and lessons I learn there bleed over into my life in the other 51 weeks of the year. So as I look forward to letting my guard down, maybe its time I start doing that more in my everyday life. Perhaps the coolest part of all this? Mike loved to hear my stories from SEEK Camp. I feel as it is the greatest source of pride he has for me. Not because of all that I do or say, but because who it allows me to become. I gotta get going, time to pack and get to SEEK Camp.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
Friday, March 16, 2012
Talking without words
As I sit down to write this entry I am reminded of this famous quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson; "My dear,
I can’t hear you.
What you do speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say.
So speak to me with your actions, not your words. Speak to me with your doings, not your mouth. Speak to me with your hands, not your voice.
For your actions drown out what you say to the point that that’s all I hear."
Working with H has brought a whole new understanding to this quote. H is teenager with special needs that I have been hired to care for and help with goals that his mother sets for us. While H is learning sign language he does not speak. As I pondered this past Saturday it was interesting how much H's parents know what he needs pretty much every moment of the day. Of course there is a certain routine that he has settled into which is helpful for all involved. Take for instance a situation that happen a few weeks ago. After walking in a beautiful park and having lunch, I could tell H was not quite himself. I phoned his parents and they instructed me to head to their house and they would be home shortly. The minute H's mom saw him, she could tell he was not well. She felt his head and immediately knew that he had a fever. Now of course, most moms would be able to diagnose a simple fever.
But I imagine that H's mom has much more difficult attempts at finding the things her son needs. How easy is an ear infection to notice if the sufferer is unable to communicate pain or fluid in their ear? All of these thoughts kept bringing me back to idea of non verbal communication. H's parents may not be able to hear complaints from their son's mouth in the form of words like most parents are used to, but they seem to be so in tune with his mannerisms, mood, and affect that they can spot things that most people would not be able to. This past Saturday I paid special attention to the non verbal communication that I could while with H. In our society it seems eye contact and head nods are quickly becoming not as important as whatever app is being played on the latest phone or gadget. I will be the first to admit to perhaps a heavy reliance on my cell phone. As we walked through the mall some folks had eyes glued to their phone or in some instances the phone seemed attached to their ear. There were others who looked and smiled, and that was always a delightful encounter.
Perhaps the most touching was a lady who saw myself and H walking out of a bread store. She waited and held the door open for us. As we walked through, she did the sign of the Cross with her hand. And looked down and said "God Bless You." I had seen plenty of folks do the sign of the cross and been told God Bless You hundreds of times, mostly after sneezing. This time it was vastly different. For starters, the kind act of holding the door opened showed me this lady was in the present moment and wanted to do something kind. One of my bigger struggles is the messages that Christians send to people. I believe Jesus to be full of grace and all about inclusion. When I see Christians expressing anything else, I am baffled. But what a message that was given by this lady, all with using 3 simple words and a small hand motion. For me, the Cross symbolizes so much, but if I had to simplify the Message it would be that the worst act is never the final act. Considering H and his family's journey, I wondered what that might look like.
Surely anyone could imagine how tough the day was the news was shared about H's diagnosis. And for some people they stop there. I talk to scores of people who just lament that sadness this family must have. While meaning well, they miss the plain and simple fact. H brings so much joy and love into this world. He needs no words to do this. A heartfelt hug is given away freely. He will hold your hand any time you walk anywhere. Sitting on the couch, he loves to lean on your shoulder. While compassion and empathy are wonderful things to feel, please don't think because someone has special needs that their life is dull, boring, or less than. If anything, I find myself realizing how long it has been since I smiled ear to ear or laughed until my cheeks hurt. And just for the record, I can always tell when I have been with H, because my cheeks hurt from the smiling and laughter.
How different would my life be if my actions spoke so loudly that I didn't need words?
Sunday, March 4, 2012
A Hand to Hold
I recently took a position as a caretaker for a teenager with special needs. The folks whose son I have been caring for have become good friends of mine. Before I was hired, I heard their frustration, desperation, and despair in finding someone that would care for their son and allow them breaks that consisted of a few hours at a time from the full attention their son requires. Let me start by saying that I realize my experience is just from a few weeks of consistently spending time with H(for respect of the family I will use H as his name), I can only imagine the realizations and insight folks who have spent months, years or decades doing this type of work.
So, basically the biggest time frame I am with H is on Saturdays. I pick him up from his home at 9 am and return around 3 pm. The idea is to promote community integration by going in the community and working on structured goals that H's family and I have agreed to. To start, as I pull up, H is in the bay window facing the street peering out waiting for me to arrive. Claps and loud screams can be heard as I approach the door. His excitement makes putting his shoes on a more difficult task than normal. As we leave he gives hugs to his parents and we are on our way. Some of his goals include opening his own car door and buckling himself, which he has shown progress through the weeks I have had him. Generally we go to one of two places. The mall or the park. The goal is to find somewhere we can walk and be in the community. H can walk on his own, but most of the time he prefers to hold your hand. At first it can be cool, I was reminded of holding my parents and grandparents hand as a kid, or when I used to hold the hand of my girlfriend in middle and high school. Then there are times when our hands get sweaty, H squeezes too tight, or it's just plain difficult to hold hands while I walk in front of or behind him due to space limitations in the aisle or walkway. Inevitably if I break free from holding hands, he reaches out to me, not stopping until our hands are united. Here is where my spiritual "A-ha" moment came to me. H is much more spiritual than me. You see, I can read the latest book, or even the Greatest Book (the Bible), but inevitably I end up breaking my hand free from God's. Much like H, I can walk without holding the Hand. But also much like H when he isn't holding someone's hand I am much more prone to lose my balance and possibly fall. There are times when I am walking with H, and he wants to go a different direction. Sometimes it is off the paved walk way in the park, and sometimes it's into the Women's restroom (H doesn't knowingly do this). When this happens I re-direct his attention and subtly guide him to where we need to go. Ever been to that place with God? I know I have. However I may rationalize and justify the action, there are times when I know God's hand is pulling me to where I need to be. The thing of it is, when I tell people that I work with H, they often praise me for being patient and compassionate, which is very kind of them. What I think many fail to see is that I am learning and growing so much as the result of working with H. And as much as I can pontificate and wonder about my relationship with God and where He is leading me, there is also the physical side of this, I feel I have to be "holding hands" with those whom God places in my life. As I look back over my life, I am saddened by my failures to hold the hand of those who have loved me. It seems those I love the most I am the most impatient with. Those I love the most, I hold forgiveness over them as if it were an unattainable prize. Those I love the most I have mouthed words that have incredible hurt behind them. When I look at all of these actions and the pain I have for having done them, it can seem to be too much to overcome. Then I remember what H and God have taught me, all I gotta do is hold hands. When I want to run away for fear of being hurt, hold hands. When I want to yell and scream because I don't feel like talking gently will convey my emotions, hold hands. When I want to hold on to resentments, I must empty my hands in order to hold your hand.
It is so simple, yet so hard. My heart is full of gratitude for God, H, and all those who have held my hand, even when I tried to run away...
So, basically the biggest time frame I am with H is on Saturdays. I pick him up from his home at 9 am and return around 3 pm. The idea is to promote community integration by going in the community and working on structured goals that H's family and I have agreed to. To start, as I pull up, H is in the bay window facing the street peering out waiting for me to arrive. Claps and loud screams can be heard as I approach the door. His excitement makes putting his shoes on a more difficult task than normal. As we leave he gives hugs to his parents and we are on our way. Some of his goals include opening his own car door and buckling himself, which he has shown progress through the weeks I have had him. Generally we go to one of two places. The mall or the park. The goal is to find somewhere we can walk and be in the community. H can walk on his own, but most of the time he prefers to hold your hand. At first it can be cool, I was reminded of holding my parents and grandparents hand as a kid, or when I used to hold the hand of my girlfriend in middle and high school. Then there are times when our hands get sweaty, H squeezes too tight, or it's just plain difficult to hold hands while I walk in front of or behind him due to space limitations in the aisle or walkway. Inevitably if I break free from holding hands, he reaches out to me, not stopping until our hands are united. Here is where my spiritual "A-ha" moment came to me. H is much more spiritual than me. You see, I can read the latest book, or even the Greatest Book (the Bible), but inevitably I end up breaking my hand free from God's. Much like H, I can walk without holding the Hand. But also much like H when he isn't holding someone's hand I am much more prone to lose my balance and possibly fall. There are times when I am walking with H, and he wants to go a different direction. Sometimes it is off the paved walk way in the park, and sometimes it's into the Women's restroom (H doesn't knowingly do this). When this happens I re-direct his attention and subtly guide him to where we need to go. Ever been to that place with God? I know I have. However I may rationalize and justify the action, there are times when I know God's hand is pulling me to where I need to be. The thing of it is, when I tell people that I work with H, they often praise me for being patient and compassionate, which is very kind of them. What I think many fail to see is that I am learning and growing so much as the result of working with H. And as much as I can pontificate and wonder about my relationship with God and where He is leading me, there is also the physical side of this, I feel I have to be "holding hands" with those whom God places in my life. As I look back over my life, I am saddened by my failures to hold the hand of those who have loved me. It seems those I love the most I am the most impatient with. Those I love the most, I hold forgiveness over them as if it were an unattainable prize. Those I love the most I have mouthed words that have incredible hurt behind them. When I look at all of these actions and the pain I have for having done them, it can seem to be too much to overcome. Then I remember what H and God have taught me, all I gotta do is hold hands. When I want to run away for fear of being hurt, hold hands. When I want to yell and scream because I don't feel like talking gently will convey my emotions, hold hands. When I want to hold on to resentments, I must empty my hands in order to hold your hand.
It is so simple, yet so hard. My heart is full of gratitude for God, H, and all those who have held my hand, even when I tried to run away...
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
2010....
I have read some of my friends' thoughts and stuff about the year that is drawing to a near, and while driving home tonight, I considered what this past year has meant to me and those around me. INCREDIBLE is one word that helps to describe what I have felt. At the beginning of the year, I committed to go to Africa on a 3 week mission trip. Doubt and fear of being able to pay for the trip occupied much space in my heart and mind for many months leading up to the trip. With some astonishing generosity of close friends, family, and fellow church members, I was able to raise enough money to pay for all the expenses and take the time off work. It took 6 flights to get to and from Mozambique, which is more than I had been on in my entire life. The trip was so amazing and the perspective I gained still leads me today. The beauty of the land, the hospitality of the people, the spirit of their worship services, the incredible need of so many, and the hope that things will get better resonate with my soul. While we were there families invited us into their homes to cater a meal for us. In most cases they had saved for weeks or months to provide us with a meal that would be considered a feast in their city. I couldn't help but feel like the spoiled American, but I do know that their intention was to be respectful and hospitable. It has caused me to value breaking bread with family and friends. I have never really gone without, and would even say I have taken for granted the privilege of having warm food and good drinking water in addition to a safe place to stay and for most of my adult life a job and a car to drive wherever I have wanted. For many of my new friends I made in Africa, this has not been their lifestyle, yet I found them to be such a more hopeful and positive people. The trip to Mozambique will forever mark my worldview, and I am very seriously considering a return trip in 2011!
Enough about me, my friends and family did some incredible things this past year. One of my proudest moments came at SEEK Camp when my little sister Rachel joined me. I tried to prepare her for what was to come, but her heart was so much more prepared than I could have ever done. She jumped right in and loved every minute of it. Just thinking of all the memories SEEK Camp holds for me, and what lies ahead for her, brings tears to my eyes. I also got to hang out with Mike Wood, one of my favorite campers, out in Greenville. It was incredible to go out to eat, see a movie, and then sit down with his Grandmother as she beamed with joy as we looked at homemade scrapbooks of his teenage years. I got to see my "little brother" Michael graduate from high school. Being 9 years older than him, I can remember him as a baby, toddler, and little kid. He has grown into quite the young man. My little sister Katie has fallen madly in love with her boyfriend, and it has been heart warming to watch a young couple fall in love. ( I am still keeping one eye on Josh at all times though!) My older brother Brad is still and always will be my lifeline. Like on "Who wants to be a Millionaire?" when I need an answer, he is the first guy I call, and this past year he gave me many answers that I was needing. My parents are perhaps my biggest blessing. My mother and father have continued to show me what it means to grow in faith and transform their lives as adults. I know being a step parent is not easy, but my step mom Sheila and step dad Mike seem to know exactly what to do and say to always be there for me. I don't get to see my step brothers Josh and Chris as much as we might like, but there remains a bond from all the time we spent growing up in our teens together. And the one family member who I know will always cheer me up? My nephew Brayden, who started kindergarten this year. Stress from work or worry about bills does not even enter his radar. I know when I hang with him I can expect references to Cars, Iron Man, and Star Wars now! What an incredible family I am a part of!!! That doesn't even include ALL the extended family I got to re-connect with on Facebook too.
In looking back on 2010 I also have to look at the group of amazing friends that I shared so much time with. My roommates helped the house we rent feel like a home. Me and Ken have been friends and seen each go through our ups and downs through the years. It has been awesome to catch up with Mayan since our high school days and see his success as a baseball coach. My friends from Salt Grass, it was bittersweet to leave yall behind in November. Some of you really saw me grow up, heck yall even helped me to grow up. The frequency we hang out might be less, but I do count yall as blessings in my life. To all my friends that I go to church with, many of you directly assisted me in getting to Mozambique. I can say I could not have done it alone. Even though I went as one person, I felt like a representative of FUMC Lewisville. Seeing all the love and prayers and dedication to the new programs at church like HIS Kids and YOTO gives me energy and guidance going forward to be the hands and feet of God in this world, country, state and city that we live in. And perhaps the most crucial of my friends are in Addison, I will continue to thank God daily for the time yall take out of your lives to help me along this spiritual journey.
It was amazing to sit down and write this. To really know that I surrounded by all of these people that had such a positive effect on my life this past year is almost overwhelming. I am reminded of a post one of my high school teachers put up on Christmas...
Enough about me, my friends and family did some incredible things this past year. One of my proudest moments came at SEEK Camp when my little sister Rachel joined me. I tried to prepare her for what was to come, but her heart was so much more prepared than I could have ever done. She jumped right in and loved every minute of it. Just thinking of all the memories SEEK Camp holds for me, and what lies ahead for her, brings tears to my eyes. I also got to hang out with Mike Wood, one of my favorite campers, out in Greenville. It was incredible to go out to eat, see a movie, and then sit down with his Grandmother as she beamed with joy as we looked at homemade scrapbooks of his teenage years. I got to see my "little brother" Michael graduate from high school. Being 9 years older than him, I can remember him as a baby, toddler, and little kid. He has grown into quite the young man. My little sister Katie has fallen madly in love with her boyfriend, and it has been heart warming to watch a young couple fall in love. ( I am still keeping one eye on Josh at all times though!) My older brother Brad is still and always will be my lifeline. Like on "Who wants to be a Millionaire?" when I need an answer, he is the first guy I call, and this past year he gave me many answers that I was needing. My parents are perhaps my biggest blessing. My mother and father have continued to show me what it means to grow in faith and transform their lives as adults. I know being a step parent is not easy, but my step mom Sheila and step dad Mike seem to know exactly what to do and say to always be there for me. I don't get to see my step brothers Josh and Chris as much as we might like, but there remains a bond from all the time we spent growing up in our teens together. And the one family member who I know will always cheer me up? My nephew Brayden, who started kindergarten this year. Stress from work or worry about bills does not even enter his radar. I know when I hang with him I can expect references to Cars, Iron Man, and Star Wars now! What an incredible family I am a part of!!! That doesn't even include ALL the extended family I got to re-connect with on Facebook too.
In looking back on 2010 I also have to look at the group of amazing friends that I shared so much time with. My roommates helped the house we rent feel like a home. Me and Ken have been friends and seen each go through our ups and downs through the years. It has been awesome to catch up with Mayan since our high school days and see his success as a baseball coach. My friends from Salt Grass, it was bittersweet to leave yall behind in November. Some of you really saw me grow up, heck yall even helped me to grow up. The frequency we hang out might be less, but I do count yall as blessings in my life. To all my friends that I go to church with, many of you directly assisted me in getting to Mozambique. I can say I could not have done it alone. Even though I went as one person, I felt like a representative of FUMC Lewisville. Seeing all the love and prayers and dedication to the new programs at church like HIS Kids and YOTO gives me energy and guidance going forward to be the hands and feet of God in this world, country, state and city that we live in. And perhaps the most crucial of my friends are in Addison, I will continue to thank God daily for the time yall take out of your lives to help me along this spiritual journey.
It was amazing to sit down and write this. To really know that I surrounded by all of these people that had such a positive effect on my life this past year is almost overwhelming. I am reminded of a post one of my high school teachers put up on Christmas...
I can remember just a few short years ago, that I did feel so alone. Thanks to all of you for showing up in my life, to assure me that I am not alone. More than this simple thanks, I hope to show up in your life and to assure you that you are not alone...SEE YOU IN 2011!!!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Seek Camp 2010
I am working on writing the whole experience of SEEK Camp (Summer Events for Exceptional Kampers) but for now I wanted to write about this most recent camp and some of the thoughts and realizations I came to. The biggest thing I have really been thinking is about us humans as souls. C.S. Lewis once wrote "You don't have a soul. You are a soul, you have a body." The different behaviors and looks of the campers set them apart from society. In camp, we come together and have the time of our lives. I have started to realize what touches me so much about camp. I often see myself in campers, and I learn how to live a fuller life from them.
For instance, there is a camper that does not like to receive applause when he is handed his award. He grows more and more afraid when he receives his award. Anytime he goes in front of a group of people he seeks to have someone go with him. Mostly he just needs a positive voice and a familiar face to assure him everything will be alright. I think back on my life when that was all I needed. A close family member to say they love me, or a best friend to support me in a lifestyle change. Many people I imagine might see this camper and be filled with compassion, perhaps pity. I see someone who needs a hand to hold. The beauty of camp is, there is always someone willing to hold his hand, and we never clap when he receives his award. It is so easy for me to see that with this camper while we are at camp. But when I get home and get to dealing with life, I know that feeling that he has all too well. For him, he covers his face out of fear. I tend to cover my fear with fake smiles and empty promises. The feeling that my greatest fear is going to become reality and I will have to face the music alone. My truth though is that I get treated much like him, my greatest fears generally don't become reality and I ALWAYS have someone by my side. Every time I see this camper get worked up, I think of how much I am like him.
Another camper is a big tough guy on the outside, but a gentle giant once you get to know him. He is quite the prankster and loves to give you quick slaps in the stomach or face. With guys he can get pretty rowdy very quickly. He loves to brag about how he is a "real man" cause he has facial hair after not shaving for a day or two. He speaks of his dream to be a cop and that he is going to save someone's life. He is a real man, because once he loves you, he loves you deep and forever. The counselors with kids will occasionally bring their little ones to visit, and this guy is the most gentle guy there is. He held a 6 month old baby by himself and you would have thought he was holding a million dollars of diamonds. He may portray a tough guy image, but he really is a teddy bear. I think of how often I like to come off as some tough and strong man, instead of just doing the loving thing. Perhaps the greatest hugs I have ever received, have been from him. Last year, I helped him clean up after going to the bathroom and he insisted I move closer to him. Inching closer I braced for a slap or a hit. Instead he grabbed me and pulled me close for a big ol bear hug. That was his way of saying thanks. This guy holds a special place in my heart, I don't know if there is anything I wouldn't do to help him.
We had a new camper this year. She was small but very loud. The moment she walked she began screaming at the top of her lungs about how excited she was for camp. Throughout the week she would break out into a chant over anything. She has a zest for life, I have not ever seen and especially heard! During the talent show, she mesmerized the crowd with a blend of the Scooby Doo intro song, some beat boxing, and sang some of Nelly's "Hot in Herre." As the week passed many people would yell the chants we had said previously, the excitement was contagious. There are times when I hear great news or get to be a part of something really special and for various reasons I don't express any zest for life. My greatest punishment is the lost time that I didn't embrace life fully and enjoy it to the max!
This is just what has been on my mind the past few hours, I have plenty more to share later...
For instance, there is a camper that does not like to receive applause when he is handed his award. He grows more and more afraid when he receives his award. Anytime he goes in front of a group of people he seeks to have someone go with him. Mostly he just needs a positive voice and a familiar face to assure him everything will be alright. I think back on my life when that was all I needed. A close family member to say they love me, or a best friend to support me in a lifestyle change. Many people I imagine might see this camper and be filled with compassion, perhaps pity. I see someone who needs a hand to hold. The beauty of camp is, there is always someone willing to hold his hand, and we never clap when he receives his award. It is so easy for me to see that with this camper while we are at camp. But when I get home and get to dealing with life, I know that feeling that he has all too well. For him, he covers his face out of fear. I tend to cover my fear with fake smiles and empty promises. The feeling that my greatest fear is going to become reality and I will have to face the music alone. My truth though is that I get treated much like him, my greatest fears generally don't become reality and I ALWAYS have someone by my side. Every time I see this camper get worked up, I think of how much I am like him.
Another camper is a big tough guy on the outside, but a gentle giant once you get to know him. He is quite the prankster and loves to give you quick slaps in the stomach or face. With guys he can get pretty rowdy very quickly. He loves to brag about how he is a "real man" cause he has facial hair after not shaving for a day or two. He speaks of his dream to be a cop and that he is going to save someone's life. He is a real man, because once he loves you, he loves you deep and forever. The counselors with kids will occasionally bring their little ones to visit, and this guy is the most gentle guy there is. He held a 6 month old baby by himself and you would have thought he was holding a million dollars of diamonds. He may portray a tough guy image, but he really is a teddy bear. I think of how often I like to come off as some tough and strong man, instead of just doing the loving thing. Perhaps the greatest hugs I have ever received, have been from him. Last year, I helped him clean up after going to the bathroom and he insisted I move closer to him. Inching closer I braced for a slap or a hit. Instead he grabbed me and pulled me close for a big ol bear hug. That was his way of saying thanks. This guy holds a special place in my heart, I don't know if there is anything I wouldn't do to help him.
We had a new camper this year. She was small but very loud. The moment she walked she began screaming at the top of her lungs about how excited she was for camp. Throughout the week she would break out into a chant over anything. She has a zest for life, I have not ever seen and especially heard! During the talent show, she mesmerized the crowd with a blend of the Scooby Doo intro song, some beat boxing, and sang some of Nelly's "Hot in Herre." As the week passed many people would yell the chants we had said previously, the excitement was contagious. There are times when I hear great news or get to be a part of something really special and for various reasons I don't express any zest for life. My greatest punishment is the lost time that I didn't embrace life fully and enjoy it to the max!
This is just what has been on my mind the past few hours, I have plenty more to share later...
Sunday, January 3, 2010
A real strong grip...
To start, I am hoping to start posting a blog once a week in 2010...
This post was real neat the way it came about. I remember meeting Grady Aron for the first time like 5 or 6 years ago. I was waiting tables and Grady and Bob Rheudasil were taking Pastor John Mollet out to eat. It was just announced he was re-assigned to another church, so this was there good-bye lunch with him. When they walked into the restaurant I happen to be up front and Pastor Mollet recognized and me and introduced me to the Bob and Grady.
From the very first time I met Grady, there was one thing I could count on. A good solid handshake. At first I thought it might be a test of manhood. He was an elderly man, and I was a young man. I thought maybe he wanted to see what kind of handshake I would offer. I met his intensity. I was new to the church and would later get to know Mr. Rheudasil and Mr. Aron. During the meal, Mr. Rheudasil was informed that my mother had re-designed the area now known as Soul Cafe. It was dedicated to his late wife. He pulled me aside, almost tearing up, he spoke so highly of how nice a job my mom had done and how much he felt that his wife would be proud.
Back to Mr. Aron, over the years I enjoyed the firm and long handshakes. It became a highlight to sunday mornings. As we would shake hands we would talk about current events, the whole entire time he would be squeezing the heck out of my hand. My family would look as I would try not to grimace. One sunday, Mr. Aron even got up and spoke during church. This is fairly unusual in my church, being that we are Methodists. I remember parts of what he shared. He talked about the various locations of FUMC Lewisville. He had been a member for decades. It was very moving to hear him talk about his regrets. His speech slowed and became almost emotional as he shared how he wished he had been more involved. To step up in front of the church at that age and as respected as he was and admit, it really hit home. Somewhere along the line, the grip that Grady shared through the handshakes moved from just hands to my heart. I really grew fond of seeing him.
Over the past couple of year, Grady's health slowly grew worse. He was moved back and forth between a nursing home and assisted living facility. I made a few attempts to visit him, but every time I would go to one place he would be at the other. Grady passed away this past week.
Here is the real neat twist. I went into work tonight and my first table had an elderly gentleman. It turns out it was his 50th Wedding Anniversary. As I congratulated him on this milestone, he reached his hand out for a handshake. I oblgied as his daughter began to cringe, and he gave me a strong handshake. I immediately grinned and enjoyed it thoroughly. His daughter apologized and begged him to stop. I shrugged her off and assured her it was ok. After a few more stiff handshakes, I asked this gentleman any wisdom from his 50 years of marriage. His words, "Stay single."
It is amazing to me that something as simple as a handshake can leave such an impression on people. To think of how many people we shake hands with on a daily basis shows the number of people we could connect with, if we really put some effort into it. So if I ever give you a good hard handshake, I hope you can understand why....
This post was real neat the way it came about. I remember meeting Grady Aron for the first time like 5 or 6 years ago. I was waiting tables and Grady and Bob Rheudasil were taking Pastor John Mollet out to eat. It was just announced he was re-assigned to another church, so this was there good-bye lunch with him. When they walked into the restaurant I happen to be up front and Pastor Mollet recognized and me and introduced me to the Bob and Grady.
From the very first time I met Grady, there was one thing I could count on. A good solid handshake. At first I thought it might be a test of manhood. He was an elderly man, and I was a young man. I thought maybe he wanted to see what kind of handshake I would offer. I met his intensity. I was new to the church and would later get to know Mr. Rheudasil and Mr. Aron. During the meal, Mr. Rheudasil was informed that my mother had re-designed the area now known as Soul Cafe. It was dedicated to his late wife. He pulled me aside, almost tearing up, he spoke so highly of how nice a job my mom had done and how much he felt that his wife would be proud.
Back to Mr. Aron, over the years I enjoyed the firm and long handshakes. It became a highlight to sunday mornings. As we would shake hands we would talk about current events, the whole entire time he would be squeezing the heck out of my hand. My family would look as I would try not to grimace. One sunday, Mr. Aron even got up and spoke during church. This is fairly unusual in my church, being that we are Methodists. I remember parts of what he shared. He talked about the various locations of FUMC Lewisville. He had been a member for decades. It was very moving to hear him talk about his regrets. His speech slowed and became almost emotional as he shared how he wished he had been more involved. To step up in front of the church at that age and as respected as he was and admit, it really hit home. Somewhere along the line, the grip that Grady shared through the handshakes moved from just hands to my heart. I really grew fond of seeing him.
Over the past couple of year, Grady's health slowly grew worse. He was moved back and forth between a nursing home and assisted living facility. I made a few attempts to visit him, but every time I would go to one place he would be at the other. Grady passed away this past week.
Here is the real neat twist. I went into work tonight and my first table had an elderly gentleman. It turns out it was his 50th Wedding Anniversary. As I congratulated him on this milestone, he reached his hand out for a handshake. I oblgied as his daughter began to cringe, and he gave me a strong handshake. I immediately grinned and enjoyed it thoroughly. His daughter apologized and begged him to stop. I shrugged her off and assured her it was ok. After a few more stiff handshakes, I asked this gentleman any wisdom from his 50 years of marriage. His words, "Stay single."
It is amazing to me that something as simple as a handshake can leave such an impression on people. To think of how many people we shake hands with on a daily basis shows the number of people we could connect with, if we really put some effort into it. So if I ever give you a good hard handshake, I hope you can understand why....
Thursday, December 3, 2009
King of Glory
Does anyone else have songs that totally put them back in time to a place and a feeling? I know have quite a few. One of them was played the other night by the original artist Third Day when I went to their concert. The song is "King of Glory", hence the title of the post.
I first heard the song by a member of the Praise Team at my church what must have been like 10 years ago. We were very new to Church, and specifically First United Methodist Church in Lewisville. We attended the 9:45 service which is Praise Contemporary music. I was glad as a teenager that it wasn't the usual boring hymns. The songs had a certain transparency and relevance to someone like myself that was very young in my journey of faith, yet they had modern sounding instrumentals full of rocked out guitars and loud drums and keyboards.
Jim Cruz was the bass player for the Praise Team at the time. I am by no means a musical genius, but I kinda feel like the bass players really hold it down for most groups yet don't generally get the recognition like the lead vocalist. I never remember even seeing Jim have a microphone, except for the time he sang "King of Glory." Maybe it is my general regard for bass players, but I always thought Jim was real cool. The song is basically alot of wondering and questioning who is this King of Glory? Which at the time, was the exact question I was dealing with. What I knew of God was spelled out during our holiday visits to churches on Christmas, Easter and Mother's Day. Add in the occasional visit to a friend's church for a lock-in and it was a very base level understanding of God.
The song's lyrics led me to question who God was and how He loved me? A search that continues today, through my current life where I am responding to a call to serve His church. A search that I walked away from for a period of time, choosing to indulge in the pleasures of this world, chase dollars, feelings, and positions of prestige. My experiences has added to depth to my search. I seek not to understand exactly who God is with my mind and to try and understand why He did what He did. Instead I have allowed the search to enter my heart, where I long for His grace and love.
Many years ago when Jim Cruz sang that song I never knew that it would become a sentimental song that will touch my heart for years to come. Jim has since moved to Nevada I believe. It's amazing the ways we can touch people's lives if we open up to God and allow Him to use us. I don't know if I will ever get a chance to talk to Jim again. I do know God offers the same opportunities to me, to be used for His glory. What an amazing life He offers to us.
I first heard the song by a member of the Praise Team at my church what must have been like 10 years ago. We were very new to Church, and specifically First United Methodist Church in Lewisville. We attended the 9:45 service which is Praise Contemporary music. I was glad as a teenager that it wasn't the usual boring hymns. The songs had a certain transparency and relevance to someone like myself that was very young in my journey of faith, yet they had modern sounding instrumentals full of rocked out guitars and loud drums and keyboards.
Jim Cruz was the bass player for the Praise Team at the time. I am by no means a musical genius, but I kinda feel like the bass players really hold it down for most groups yet don't generally get the recognition like the lead vocalist. I never remember even seeing Jim have a microphone, except for the time he sang "King of Glory." Maybe it is my general regard for bass players, but I always thought Jim was real cool. The song is basically alot of wondering and questioning who is this King of Glory? Which at the time, was the exact question I was dealing with. What I knew of God was spelled out during our holiday visits to churches on Christmas, Easter and Mother's Day. Add in the occasional visit to a friend's church for a lock-in and it was a very base level understanding of God.
The song's lyrics led me to question who God was and how He loved me? A search that continues today, through my current life where I am responding to a call to serve His church. A search that I walked away from for a period of time, choosing to indulge in the pleasures of this world, chase dollars, feelings, and positions of prestige. My experiences has added to depth to my search. I seek not to understand exactly who God is with my mind and to try and understand why He did what He did. Instead I have allowed the search to enter my heart, where I long for His grace and love.
Many years ago when Jim Cruz sang that song I never knew that it would become a sentimental song that will touch my heart for years to come. Jim has since moved to Nevada I believe. It's amazing the ways we can touch people's lives if we open up to God and allow Him to use us. I don't know if I will ever get a chance to talk to Jim again. I do know God offers the same opportunities to me, to be used for His glory. What an amazing life He offers to us.
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